The words, tone of voice–something–lit my fuse. Why were these jackasses still alive when my parents were dead? I tucked my chin in my coat collar and stalked by faster than I’d ever moved in heels. Determined to have revenge didn’t come close to my resolution.
Thru the green bottle-glass windows of the garret, Lily grimly observed the wavering moonlit shadows of the ghosts & Gypsy Jenny Cutpurse who danced grotesquely to no music. Jenny claimed to be her drowned mother. Lily repudiated that ancestral viciousness.
Carys envisioned their 1st anniversary in vivid detail. Aegean cruise, endless sun, & lusty red wine from dusty, vintage bottles. Rand’s laughter whenever she flubbed her Greek, & their attendant, an Apollo in cut-offs. Mm. Better scratch Greece.